


Bad Trip

by Dullue (Bruna)



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-16
Updated: 2013-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-04 19:43:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bruna/pseuds/Dullue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drunk John has a make out session with Mycroft at 221b.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Trip

John had one to many pints, maybe ten to many pints, but he was okay. Kind off. He was drunkly walking home and he succeeded in not smacking his face in the floor, so that could be a win. But he had been aroused for a little while now and he was in the mood for sex. He sighted getting to the door at 221b Baker Street, at least Sherlock wouldn't be there to be a cock tease, he had texted john about going to a case earlier, so john was very surprised to open the door to a figure sitting in the couch.

\- wha? Mycroft? Wha' you doin' here? - he hung his coat on the third try and faced Mycroft.

\- my, my doctor, bit drunk are we? I'm hopping in finding my brother so we could talk. - Mycroft said, he was sitting in the couch with his 3 piece suit, but the umbrella wasn't there.

\- no Sherlock today sorry, just old boring me. - john said going to the kitchen in an almost straight line. He gulped a cup of cold water in one go, and when he turned to Mycroft to tell him to go home he bumped right into the other man chest, and the only thing that stopped him from going to his ass was Mycroft had on his arm. Mycroft soft strong hand on his arm.

\- john, you can let go now. - Mycroft told him and just the john noticed he was holding Mycroft chest.

John just hummed and went back to the living room, Mycroft followed him.

\- what you want? - john asked again 

\- well doctor I think the alcohol is making your brain go slower I already told you why I'm here - he said with his normal stoic face, the same bloody face he used for everything, and that pissed john off.

He thought about punching the guy to see if he could get a reaction, but he was drunk and that wouldn't work very well for him afterwards so he did the most shocking thing he could think of, he pushed Mycroft towards him and kissed him. At first it was like someone froze him, then john bit his lower lip and he let a gasp escape his mouth and john took the opportunity to get his tongue inside his mouth. John hummed when his tongue touched Mycroft mouth and he was surprised when Mycroft started kissing back, with o e hand on his head john guided his other hand to Mycroft waste and pushed him closer. Mycroft allowed a little moan and snaked his hand around to clench at john and deepen the kiss. John will swear latter it was calculated but his knees actually buckled and he sited on the couch disengaging from Mycroft. Before he could say anything john pulled Mycroft waste down and taking the hint Mycroft straddled him and they started kissing again, and now he could feel Mycroft erection pressing those expensive trousers. And before john knew what he was doing his hand found Mycroft cock and gave it a squeeze. And lid you not Mycroft moaned into johns mouth, who accepts that an as okay and pushed his hips up into Mycroft ass, and this time he disengage the kiss to moan. John started sucking a bruise on his neck while he moaned a loud 'john!', and that's the exact moment the door opened. At the door stood a baffled Lestrade and a very big eyed Sherlock. The moment was tense and Sherlock broke it. He turned to Lestrade fished something out of his pocket and gave it to him.

\- okay, you where right I shouldn't have tried that homemade drug. I'm having the craziest bad trip of my life right now. - Sherlock said looking at Lestrade and giving him a pac with small ble pills.

Sherlock then walks straight to his room without looking at the couch again. And Lestrade just turn around and goes away without saying anything and living the door open. Before johns drunk brain could process what to do Mycroft stands, umbrella in hand and bids him good night walkinf out the door and closing it.

That night john, once more, has to resort to a sad lonely wank and the only thing he could concentrate was "where the hell did Mycroft got his umbrella from?"

 

**Author's Note:**

> Second fic i write, comments are always welcome! And please forgive any english mistakes :(


End file.
